And at that moment, I swear we were PBJ ((PBJ Oneshots))
by OrokanaDango
Summary: A selection of PBJ oneshots that I've written! Ranges from cute fluff to smut. If you have a prompt or suggestion, please do leave me a PM!
1. PBJ ONESHOTS

Here's a bunch of PB&J oneshots.

They are a range of fluffs, sadstucks, smut and other things.

If you want to give me a prompt or suggest a subject, send me a PM! I'd love it if people could give me ideas!

Anyway, enjoy!


	2. Sleep Sweetly

So I wrote this really short oneshot at half 11 at night. Maybe if you guys like it I'll write it up as a proper story?

It's about Human Kid!Tavros and his boogeyman Gamzee.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

"When I was younger, I used... to have a lot of bad nightmares. Nothing major... Little kids, have bad dreams all the time; it's merely a product of an over-active imagination. When that happened, the man underneath my bed would appear. He would climb out and just sit there, scaring the nightmares away.

"I'd, uh, like to say that he scared me too, and scarred me emotionally, but he didn't. He called himself a 'Boogeyman', but, to me, he was really, just a guardian angel with tattered wings."

* * *

Tavros' cheeks flushed as he hid under the duvet, squeezing his eyes shut, so tightly that the tears streaming from them could barely escape from his eyelids.  
"G-go...away..." he whimpered. He wanted to sound brave against the scary monster of his nightmares that he believed wanted to hurt him, but all that was released from his mouth was an almost laughable whine.  
"Tavbro?" The one he was hoping to hear, the boogeyman, Gamzee cut through his thoughts. Tavros shifted closer to the sound of the voice.  
"Is that you, Mister?" He mumbled, wary.  
"Sure is, little bro." A slender hand rested on his figure and patted it softly, reassuringly.  
"Are the monsters gone?"  
"Yeah. Got rid a' them for you. You'll be fine from now on. They'll never bother you again." Tavros pulled the covers below his neck and stared up into the gentle face of the boogeyman..._HIS_ boogeyman.  
"Thank you, Gamzee." Tavros beamed and sat up. "I love you."  
Gamzee smiled under his clownish make-up and looked down at the human boy. "I love you too, kid."  
Tavros knelt up to wrap his arms around his boogeyman's neck in a warm embrace. Gamzee chuckled and sighed happily, before hugging back.

Even at his young age, Tavros knew that his love for Gamzee was real. He hugged the young man tighter and sniffed, "I really do, you know."  
Before he knew it he had fallen asleep, tucked in by his boogeyman.

He didn't have any nightmares after that. But...he also didn't see Gamzee again.  
He wondered whether getting rid of his nightmares was really worth it.

* * *

"It's, uhh...been a long time since I've seen him. But I still think about him, a lot.  
That love, it hasn't gone away, either...  
You know, I've been getting bad dreams again.  
I wonder... Will he come back?  
If he does. I will tell him.  
How I feel, I mean.  
My Boogeyman."


	3. It Hurts

Your name is Gamzee Makara, and the boy you fell in love with is going to die.

It hurts. It hurts so much.  
It hurts how you'll never get the courage to tell him how you feel. And it hurts that no matter how much you love him, all you can do is watch him reduce into nothing but a shell. The light in his eyes are merely a spark, now.

You sit with him in that hospital room. It's private; his father made sure of that. That man sleeps in the room assigned for members of terminally ill patients' families. You can imagine his dreams are eventless, forced by medication and the sheer lack of will to see his beloved son degenerate in this way.

You sit at the edge of the bed where the boy you adore lay, silently holding his hand and forcing the silent tears to stay within your eyes. He denied the treatment. It didn't have much of a chance of success anyway, the doctor said that it was 'purely experimental'.  
He squeezes your hand and grins weakly.

_Strong little bastard. He never wanted to look weak._

"I'm sorry, Gamzee." He he whispers, rubbing a thumb over your hands slightly, tickling the flesh.

"What for, bro?" You reply. The smile on your face is shallow and empty. A reflection of your soul, you decide in passing. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"For being...this. For having, so much money spent on me only to, uhh... Have it amount to nothing?" He still had the stammer and weird speech pattern he always did. And now he looked as fragile and breakable on the outside as on the inside. It hurts you so much to hear how he feels.

"Tavbro. Don't ever say that. We did this because we love you. I love-.." You stop yourself short.

_Are you even sure about this?_  
_How do you know it will be alright?_  
_What if it doesn't? What then?_  
_Do you want his last moments to be filled with disgust and disdain over you and your feelings?_

Tavbro isn't a judgemental guy, but...

"Uh, I mean-" You begin, stammering uncharacteristically.

_No. Forget about what I said. Do it._

You inhale and exhale gently, focusing your indigo eyes on his brown ones.

_Do it. _

"I fucking love you, Tavbro." You smile pathetically. His face becomes blank, his eyes staring and his lips parted slightly. As if he wanted to say something, but didn't know how.

You stare at him. Despite his pale skin and ghostly appearance, and the bags under his eyes from countless nights tossing and turning, and crying into your shoulder, you think he's beautiful. And you can't help but close the ten inch distance between your faces and kiss him chastely. His eyes fly open wide; and you can feel his eyelashes flutter against your skin as you put a hand on his cheek, pressing your other hand on the bed beside him, leaning closer to get more leverage. He is unresponsive.

_Does he not... Want this?_

You pull away from the smaller boy, sitting up and looking ashamed. "I'm so fucking sorry.'' It was your turn to apologize, apparently.

Tavros said nothing, but worked on chewing his lip, the pink blush evident on his sickly skin.

"I just really wanted to say to you how I all up and motherfucking feel, you know?" You continue, placing your hand onto his. He doesn't flinch or snatch his hand away. Is that a good sign? Bad?

"But if you want me to leave, that's cool." You sigh. When you hear nothing, you fight the tears again.  
Fantastic.  
You look at the clock. 11:52 p.m.  
In any other case you would stay here overnight, watching over Tavros. But this wasn't any other night.

You turn to tell him that you're leaving and suddenly your mouth is encompassed by surprisingly warm lips, icy cold hands palming the back of your neck. You pull away again, the look of surprise plastered on your face. Tavros kneels close to you, his hand still up by your neck, however now hovering just close enough that you can feel the skin of the nape of your neck prickle with goosebumps.

"M-me too." He mumbles. You beam like a kid on Christmas and you lean to kiss him again, deeper this time. He's getting into it this time, his hands running through your tangled raven hair. An eager tongue flicks at your lip, and you open your mouth to accommodate his tongue and yours. They meet and fight, wanting control. As you break for air you press your forehead to his and you grin, more reserved now. The boy you love mumbles something with a feeling of content, something along the lines of _"...always have...adore...perfect..."_

You kiss some more, holding each other and nuzzling each other.  
As you hold him in your arms, you whisper in his ear.  
"I will love you until the earth ends, Tav."

He smiles a little, weakly. "I'll love you past the day I die."  
You say nothing and you kiss his Mohawk, breathing in his powdery scent.

You hope that there is a long while before that happens.

* * *

He died on a Saturday. Ten days after you told him how you felt. Your body feels numb. You don't know how many tears you've already cried.

He slipped away during the night.

You see the light in his eyes die as his grip on your hand lessens, and you press the button alerting a nurse on the wall repeatedly, squeezing his hand, trying to pull him back.  
He smiles at you, tears rolling down his cheeks.  
"I love you, Gamzee." He whispers, before the nurse pushes past, ordering you to go outside. As you are pushed out of the room protesting, his father pushes past, shouting for his son. The man's eyes are desperate. You step aside. He needs his son more than you do.

The door is shut and you lean against it, sobbing as a nurse gently rubs your back.

"There's nothing you could have done, sweetheart." She coos gently, as your sobbing frame leans against hers.

"I love him...I don't want him to go..." You whisper, tears streaking your face.

But it's too late.  
You know you couldn't do anything, and you know he died without anything to regret, but still your heart aches and your body feels empty without your love there.

It hurts. It hurts so much.


	4. Better

In a way, you're glad he doesn't love you. It's better that way.  
You're glad that he has someone that he wants to be strong for, even if that _BITCH_ doesn't appreciate HOW MUCH HE _LOVES_ HER.

...Calm down. _Calm_.

You're glad that...he smiles more often. You think that you helped with that.  
And you're glad that despite how scary you can be, he's still your friend.

...Although.

Sometimes it's just not enough. So close, but _so far_. So close one can brush his fingers against the possibility.  
It hurts, you know that well. And the sopor doesn't dull the ache that pulses in your chest, wrecking your think pan and your blood pusher with it's neurotic _'what if?'_s'.

Maybe if you have just a little more...that's it...all_ better_...

Except it isn't. Even in your drug induced haze, you still know he'll never love you. You have spent your life pining and hoping and wishing that he'd _NOTICE HOW YOU FEEL_.

Maybe you're better off alone.  
Maybe you're better off dead.

It's better that way.


End file.
